Nai Nai Saves the Day
by Araeph
Summary: COMPLETE! Mulan is an honored guest at a celebration, but she still needs a little family help to see it through. Her dress is deadly, the cricket gets loose, and she's framed for a crime she didn't commit. I think it's going well, don't you?
1. Pre Party Panic

**Ni Ni Saves the Day**

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's Mulan, nor any of the characters and plotlines therein.

Author's Note: For those of you who don't know, Ni Ni is the Chinese word for grandmother. I hope you like this second story of mine. I guess I'm continuing in the same style as the first one, since I got positive feedback on "The Great Fa Mulan"—except for one review, which didn't actually _tell _me what I did wrong, so how I am supposed to improve my writing is beyond me. Like it or loathe it, please send feedback. Details and nitpicking welcome.

This story is dedicated to the memory of my grandma, an honorable warrior in her own right.

* * *

**Chapter One: Pre-Party Panic**

Lanterns in a multitude of colors bobbed up and down as China's citizens flocked to the Imperial City. Silk ribbons threaded in between the market stalls, and acrobats flipped back and forth in the streets. No, China hadn't escaped another Hun attack. It was New Year's, and the entire city was jubilant...

...save for one person.

"I can't believe that she's going dressed as a soldier!" grumbled Grandma. "We spent a _week_ trying to pick out just the right fabric for her to wear, and she decides she has to be 'Ping' again! Humph. Those shoes were worth a fortune, too."

"Grandma," Fa Li reminded her, "Mulan will be staying here for three days. She'll have to wear the dress sometime." She looked disappointed. "Those shoes, though..."

"She complained they pinched her feet!" Grandma tut-tutted. "When _I _was her age, my feet were half the size of hers, and did anyone hear me complaining about it?"

Fa Li blinked. "You mean, you didn't complain about it? I could have sworn I've heard you say—"

"It was a rhetorical question," snapped Grandma, "and it doesn't have anything to do with Mulan's refusal to dress up for the occasion. How is she supposed to land that man if she doesn't primp every once in a while?"

There, Fa Li had to smile. "I think that if Captain Li were choosy about that, he wouldn't have come back to her after the war. She told me he'd only seen her in a dress once before, and the rest of the time, she had on her armor." A worried look crossed her face. "I think, though, that she should be learning more about running a household." All of a sudden, she sighed. "Now, Grandma, you've made _me _moody."

Fa Zhou, who until this moment had been walking ahead of them, stopped and moved closer. "None of us should be downcast this day," he said, with a fond smile as he thought about his only daughter. "Mulan will dine with the Emperor at his table. It is a great honor."

Grandma let out a screech. "She's actually eating with him? I thought she was just going to visit!"

Fa Zhou looked like he was trying not to laugh. "That, too."

"Fortune go with her," Grandma groaned. "She's got to make a good impression, and she's not even dressed for it!"

From her sash, she brought out a small cage with a cricket inside.

"Don't make me toss you out," she said to it. "There are too many wagons here that would roll right over you."

The cricket shrank back as it uttered a sound of protest.

Fa Li glanced at the cricket with a look of despair. "Grandma, wasn't that the cricket who made a mess of Mulan's Matchmaking day? How can you carry him around? He ruined everything!"

"Exactly!" said Grandma. "You can't get them luckier than this one!"

Fa Li looked confused.

With a grin, Grandma continued, "If he hadn't messed things up, she wouldn't have gone to war and met Li Shang!"

* * *

"Mulan?"

The captain knocked on the door where he knew she was staying. "Twenty minutes before the formal dinner. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Go away!" came a distressed voice from inside. "I'm not ready yet!"

Shang raised his eyebrows. "I thought you said you were going in your soldier's outfit!" he called to her. "In that case, you should be fine. Weren't you wearing it as you came in?"

There was a pause. "I changed my mind," said Mulan's voice. She didn't sound too happy about her decision. Shang heard her mumble something about insistent grandmothers.

The captain hesitated. On the one hand, he already felt uncomfortable enough around Fa Mulan, and his knowledge of women's clothing was slim. On the other hand, she was a friend in need, and he owed her much more than a few moments' embarrassment. He would put his awkwardness aside, for now.

"May I be of help with something?" Shang asked as nicely as possible.

There was a small sigh. The door opened a crack, and Mulan peeked out at him. "Are you alone?" she asked finally. When he nodded, she opened the door all the way. "Good. I really wouldn't want the guys to see this."

To a tailor, Mulan would have looked a fright. Her topknot was coming undone and a few locks rested on the first layer of her gown. The second layer, made of dark blue silk, was draped over one shoulder like a toga. Her grey and black sash was knotted at the ends. All of this Mulan was trying to remedy with hands covered by sleeves too long for her arms.

Shang thought she looked stunning.

He was about to compliment her, when a closer look at her expression reminded him that she would probably take it as sarcasm. Instead, he struck a forbidding pose and boomed out, "What's this, soldier? Unprepared for an inspection? I won't have it. Ten laps around the practice court!"

Mulan's grimace softened into a grin, and soon she was laughing along with him. "Thanks," she said appreciatively. "I could use a little humor. As well as about ten seamstresses."

Shang frowned. "Why didn't you ask the servants to dress you?"

Mulan blinked. "I can do that?"

"You _are _in the palace," Shang reminded her. "Besides, lots of wealthy women have their own maids. In here!" he called to the adjoining chamber, and the woman who had been busy fluffing the pillows scurried over to help Mulan fix her dress.

"Apologies, Miss," said the maid, looking put out. "That new cleaning lady doesn't know a dust cloth from drapes."

Mulan colored as the maid undid her hair and began to brush it anew. "I should have thought of this. I haven't exactly had a polished upbringing, you know."

"You sound like you're making an apology." Shang spread his hands. "Why would I care about that? I'm a soldier. Just because I come from a wealthy family doesn't mean that I don't sleep on the ground or refuse to get my hands dirty."

"No, I know that," said Mulan, remembering the intensive training in addition to the personal regimen Shang put himself through during their adventure. "It's just...I'm sure you're used to admiring all of the perfectly-attired noblewomen and dancing girls."

"Seeing them, yes. Admiring them, not necessarily," said Shang. "I wasn't allowed any familiarity with the high-born girls unless I wanted to be betrothed to them, and the dancers were a little _too _eager to get to know me." He winced, knowing that said beauties would be out in force tonight. At the same time, he hoped that Mulan would understand him well enough not to imagine that he would reciprocate. As far as he was concerned, he was taken, even if Mulan did not realize it yet.

His reverie broke when he realized that Mulan had asked him a question. To judge by the smirk on her face, he was supposed to be uncomfortable with it.

"Yes?" Shang prompted, hoping that she would forgive his inattention and repeat the question.

Instead, Mulan looked slightly crestfallen. "Oh," she said, and turned her head slightly to help her waiting maid.

Instantly, Shang knew that he had inadvertently answered her, and what's more, his answer had not been the one she'd hoped for. "No, wait—" he began.

"You don't have to retract your answer, Shang," said Mulan, cutting him off. "I understand...I just thought, having seen you before during our march, that you wouldn't...anyway, I shouldn't have said anything. You _are _a soldier, after all," she finished, repeating the words he had spoken.

"Actually—" but at that point, the maid pulled a silk screen in front of Mulan, looking pointedly at Shang, who realized, too late, that the maid was going to dress Mulan again beginning with her underclothes. He hastily backed out of the room, shut the door, and heaved a sigh on the other side. Clearing up the misunderstanding would have to wait.

* * *

"Now _that _is what a bride should look like!" said Grandma in satisfaction. Every inch of her granddaughter had been expertly draped in silk, powdered, or done up with ribbons. "Much better than the man-dress you were wearing so stubbornly, and now why the long face?" She peered up at Mulan's listless features. "Are you hungry? Dinner's in five minutes."

"I'm upset, even though I guess I have no right to be. He's not even my—"

"What could Shang have done wrong?" Grandma asked bluntly, hands on her hips. "He was in here for what, two minutes?"

"He didn't _do _anything," said Mulan. "We—we were talking about the elegant women of the court, he mentioned the dancing girls being too eager to get close to him, and I asked him if it was because of his previous romantic encounters with them. It was supposed to be a joke, but apparently he took it seriously. I...I didn't think he would actually answer." She put a hand to her forehead, then cursed as her hand came away covered in powder.

"Don't use your soldier words here!" hissed Grandma. She shook her head. "Mulan, you're a terrific granddaughter, but sometimes you have to know when to hold your tongue. And that doesn't just go for your swearing. Men like Shang are world-wise in more ways than one; I thought he might phrase things a little more delicately around you, but Mulan, what did you expect for an answer to a question like that?"

"It's just that he's been so honorable when I've known him—I've stayed with the men at taverns, and he never once asked for a woman's favors."

"Probably trying to set a good example for his men," Grandma supplied. A sudden thought, born of many years' experience with marital trials, made her ask, "Are you _sure _that's what he said?"

"How else am I to interpret 'yes'?" Mulan demanded. "Then he tried to change his answer, and said, 'No, wait,' but I know an honest word when I hear it."

Grandma was not so sure. "I think," she said, "that you have just experienced a minor miscommunication."

"Grandma, he said—"

"I'm sure he did." Grandma re-powdered Mulan's forehead and ushered her towards the door. "Come on, that's your escort's knock. You have two minutes." She handed Mulan her neck scarf. "You are capable of tying that, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Good, because I think your maid is having a hard time of it. You should be ashamed of yourself," she said to the cleaning lady, who hurried out the door.

Mulan only shook her head.

"Cheer up, Mulan." Grandma grinned at her cheekily. "I'll talk to him, and see if I can't get a straight answer."

"What? No, Grandma, don't!"

But Grandma was already walking down the corridors, thinking of her granddaughter affectionately. Mulan was sweet in her feeble protests; it was almost like she really didn't want Grandma to fix things for her! Ah, well. Mulan knew her grandmother well enough to understand that Ni-Ni was the soul of discretion.

* * *

"You!"

Shang looked around impatiently for the source of the voice. He had been asked to dine with the Emperor, and better yet, Mulan was waiting for him. He didn't have time to—wait a minute. Where _was _the voice coming from?

"Down here, good-looking!"

Shang turned behind him and looked down...and down...and down, until he was gazing bewilderedly at Mulan's grandmother. Despite the size and strength difference between them, Shang tended to feel like a fresh bone awaiting Little Brother whenever Grandma stared at him.

He quickly bowed to her. "Honorable—"

She waved her hand. "No time for formalities," she said. "I know you've got to go. Before you do, I've got a question for you."

"Uh...all right," he said awkwardly.

"And I want you to be honest."

"Yes..."

"Completely and totally."

"Right."

"No sugar-coating. Got it?"

Shang nodded.

Grandma folded her arms and eyed him squarely. "Do you want to marry Mulan?"

Shang was thunderstruck. Of all the times to ask him this...why did she need to know _now_? His shoulders sagged in defeat. He _had _promised to answer candidly. "I...yes, very much."

Thinking that things couldn't get more humiliating, he turned to leave.

A bony hand snagged his shirtsleeve. "Hold on. That was the warm-up question."

_You _have _to be kidding, _Shang groaned inwardly.

Carefully, Grandma glanced right and left, making sure there was no one in earshot. "Then," she demanded, "WHY did you tell her about your previous exploits with women?"

Shang gaped at her. It was obvious that this woman was stark raving mad. Mulan had crazy ideas; her grandmother was just plain crazy. As if placating an enraged tigress, he answered, "Madam, I am sure that you're mistaken. I have told Mulan nothing of the sort! Not that there would be much to tell, anyway," Shang mumbled, hoping that the old woman was partially deaf.

No sooner than he had uttered that than Grandma shrieked triumphantly. "I knew it! I just knew she hadn't understood you well!" Without further ado, she told Shang just what Mulan had thought he'd meant by his answer.

Shang quickly went from thunderstruck to horrified. "I have to explain myself!" He tried to rush back to her room, but a fierce tug on his cape sent him reeling backwards.

"Not now, you don't," said Grandma. "She's probably already left, and besides, if you just barge into her room like that, who knows what she'll think of you?"

"But—"

To his dismay, Shang found himself facing the opposite way he had intended to go. What was it with these Fa women? They could make him change his plans before he knew what hit him.

"The Emperor is waiting, dear," said Grandma kindly. "You shouldn't keep His Majesty." With that, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a friendly push in the right direction. At least, Shang thought it was friendly. One never could be quite certain with Grandma.

* * *

"I can't believe this. Mulan? MULAN!" Fa Li's voice filtered through the door. "Are you decent?"

"More or less!" called Mulan, slipping on her shoes. "What's wrong?"

Her mother looked like she had a headache coming on. "Your grandmother decided to bring her lucky cricket."

"Don't act as if it's your fault," Fa Zhou comforted her. "You know how superstitious she is."

"Don't tell me," said Mulan flatly. "It's escaped again."

She marveled at how much her parents resembled each other when someone was trying their patience.

"It'll all right," said Mulan. "You should go and enjoy the festivals. I'll look for Cri-Kee, if I have time before dinner."

Almost as soon as she'd showed her parents out, there was a knock on the inner door. "May I come in, Miss?"

"Yes," Mulan called to the maid. She shook her head in sympathy. Her chambermaid was trying to clean the rest of Mulan's quarters as quickly as she could.

Mulan pressed her hands together and inclined her head. "Does this look all right? Please be honest."

"You look very charming," said the maid, pleased. "Did you tie your neck scarf yourself? I haven't seen a knot like that before."

Mulan shrugged. "I've never tied it on my own before. Frankly, I'm not very good at dressing up. My friends showed me this knot early on in the training. This is the first time I've tried it."

"It looks complicated," said the maid. "Let's see...it's a bit skewed this way. Here, let's straighten this and tighten that up a little..."

She pulled hard on the scarf.

Immediately, Mulan doubled over, choking and trying frantically to breathe. The maid bent down. "What's the matter?"

Mulan gestured frantically to the fabric, and the maid, understanding what had happened, tried frantically to loosen the slipknot. Several frantic seconds later, Mulan was free, albeit breathing raggedly.

Cautiously, the maid said, "Are you sure that they're your friends?"

Gasping, Mulan said hoarsely, "Should've...known. It was before...got...arrow..." She took deep breaths and tried to compose herself.

The maid bit her lip, looking worried. "Should I call for help?"

She was rewarded with a smile. "Nah. I'll...be...fine. Just...one more thing...gone wrong."

The maid assisted her to her feet, and Mulan lay back on her bed, still holding one end of the scarf. There was no avoiding it; she would be late.

_Well, _she thought wryly, _at least I know how to tie a noose._

She hoped the Emperor would understand.

* * *

I hope this installment is up to snuff. Let me know what you think! 


	2. Debacle During Dinner

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's Mulan, nor any of the characters and plotlines therein.

Author´s Note: Thank you for the continuing feedback. I am sorry to be slow with the reviewer responses; I happen to be studying abroad in Spain at the moment. Internet access is limited, especially when traveling. Here´s an update from the Rock of Gibraltar.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Debacle During Dinner**

"Your Excellency." A servant entered the room and kowtowed. "I regret to announce that Fa Mulan will be arriving late to the table. She says that there is some 'unfinished business' to take care of."

The Emperor, who had been in conversation with Captain Li Shang, frowned at the interruption. The captain's eyes widened considerably when the servant gave this excuse.

"This is unusual," mused the Emperor. "I wouldn't have thought that she would keep us waiting."

Shang looked worried. "Your Majesty, if Mulan is delayed, she surely must have a good reason for it."

At that moment, a second servant appeared behind the first, almost knocking the latter down in his rush to the Emperor's side.

"Your Excellency!" said the second one in panic. "Chi Fu's apartments have caught fire!"

This time, both the Emperor and Shang rose to their feet.

"Is Chi Fu hurt? Are the flames spreading to the rest of the palace?" asked the Emperor at once.

"No, Your Excellency. It was contained within his quarters, though it very nearly engulfed the corridor. Fortunately, the consul rushed out before more than his clothing was burnt."

At this, the captain suddenly acquired a hacking cough, as he covered his mouth with one hand and tried to look very distressed about this news.

The servant pulled out a green hair tie. "I'm afraid this was found at the scene. It got caught on one of Chi Fu's hanging scrolls, probably while the perpetrator rushed to exit the chamber."

"Hanging...scrolls?" Shang wrinkled his forehead.

"Self portraits," the Emperor explained.

"Ah. But what..." The captain scrutinized the tie, disbelief etched on his face. "Mulan? This...this can't be. Your Majesty, I can't believe that she..."

The Emperor looked gravely at him. "I would have thought her to be incapable of such a thing, myself," he said. "Still," he added thoughtfully, "Chi Fu was the one to press for her execution on more than one occasion. I understand that there must be bad blood between them."

"She wouldn't have risked setting Your Majesty's palace on fire to settle a score!" Shang insisted.

"Hmm," was the Emperor's only remark. With an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, Shang remembered the damage Mulan had wrought on the palace when she had destroyed Shan Yu. But surely, she couldn't...she couldn't have...

She _couldn't_ have!

"Your Majesty," Shang began, but was interrupted. Behind the two servants, a young woman entered the room, looking distraught. She threw herself to the ground before the Emperor. "Sire!" she said plaintively. Shang recognized her as the woman who had dressed Mulan. "Mulan will be delayed, she has..."

"Unfinished business to attend to," said the Emperor dismissively.

The woman gulped. "No, Excellency," she answered. "I was going to say that Fa Mulan is recovering in her room. There has just been an...accident...when I was adjusting her dress."

That got the Emperor's attention. "Her _dress_?"

The maid looked mortified. "Yes, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't know that—"

"Your Majesty," said Shang, glad that for once _he _was cutting _her _off. "Mulan went into the Imperial City wearing her armor, but afterwards she put the armor away and changed into a dress. She could not have left that hair band; it was lying on the table in her room a few minutes ago. Someone is framing her."

The Emperor raised an eyebrow. "Do you know this for certain? She may have told you that she was changing into a dress to forestall any suspicions."

"I saw her," said Shang.

Both eyebrows were now raised. "You saw Fa Mulan change into a dress?"

"Yes." Abruptly, Shang turned white. "I mean, no! No, I, I didn't see her _change_, I saw her afterwards."

"But she," the Emperor indicated the cowering maid, "has told me that Mulan had not yet finished dressing when the accident just now occurred."

"She had indeed finished dressing, Your Majesty..." Shang didn't want to bring up Mulan's fashion fiasco if he could help it.

"So the maid is lying to me?" asked the Emperor, beginning to get angry.

"No..."

"Are _you _keeping information from me, then?"

"No!"

"Your Excellency? Your Excellency!"

Chi Fu burst into the room behind the maid, and, true to his habit of ignoring servants, failed to see them in time to stop. He wasn't a large man, but his momentum was enough to knock over Mulan's maid, who careened into the second servant, who bumped into the first, and they would all have landed in a heap atop the Emperor if Shang hadn't stepped in between him and the pile of underlings.

"Yom Mexiwency," came Chi Fu's muffled voice. "Fis time, I wiw fee to it fat Fa Mmmlan if hanged—Meep!"

A very high-pitched shriek rent the air.

From the tangle of limbs, two thin arms gesticulated wildly. "Heeeeeeelp!"

Figuring that things couldn't get any worse, Shang reached in and pulled Chi Fu out. As Chi Fu dangled in the air, he flailed, hitting Shang in the eye with much more accuracy than he could have managed intentionally. The captain let him go and was about to boot Chi Fu through the nearest wall, but was checked by the consul's screams. "It's crawling all over me! Get it off! Get it off!"

It was turning out to be a Ping kind of day.

At that moment, as it happened, who should come through the door but Fa Mulan herself, though she was staggering slightly and taking deep breaths as she entered.

"Am I late?" she asked, then faltered as she looked at the scene before her. Shang saw that the area around her throat was red. He had remained calm in the face of the previous chaos, but seeing Mulan hurt threw him into a panic. He leaped over the struggling bodies and tilted her chin up. Inspecting the wound, Shang looked at the Emperor. His eyes were flinty. "Attempted strangulation, Your Majesty."

The Emperor looked taken aback. He was even ignoring Chi Fu's perpetual pleas for aid. "Fa Mulan, what happened to you?"

"She's clumsy, that's what!" came a voice from beyond the door. There was a brisk knock. "May I come in, Your Majesty?"

"Permission granted." The Emperor wondered who could possibly walk through the door next.

A small, wiry dame with white hair entered the dining room. She was carrying a small, empty cage in her right hand. Completely unfazed by the mayhem, she bowed to the Emperor and then proceeded over to Chi Fu. She grabbed the back of his robes and shook them. "In you go, Cri-Kee!" A few seconds later, a small bug leaped out and the woman caught it, putting it in the cage whence it had presumably escaped.

The Emperor was about to ask who she was, but found that this was unnecessary. "Pardon the interruption, Excellency," she said. "I am Mulan's grandmother."

The Emperor inclined his head graciously. "You are the first person who has managed a polite introduction today."

"Why, thank you." Grandma smiled at him. "As I was saying, Mulan's 'strangulation' mark is about the same place where her neck scarf would normally be...not uncommon if one ties the wrong knot. Which can happen, if one is bad enough at dressing oneself that one's maid has to intervene and redo everything. Right, Mulan?"

China's heroine blushed and nodded. Everyone else pretended not to have heard this explanation.

Without pausing, Grandma turned to the first servant, who had told them all about Mulan's "unfinished business." He had managed to extricate himself in the meantime, but looked inexplicably nervous under Grandma's inquiring eyes. "By the way," she said, "you should return my daughter's hair band to her room, don't you think? It was bad enough disguising yourself as that cleaning lady, but don't think you could fool me, Mister. I've been keeping house for longer than you've been alive, and you are an amateur duster, at best."

As everyone else in the room gasped, the first servant growled with rage and tried to grab Grandma. He had just seized her by the shoulder when a blow to the head sent him backwards.

"Hands _off_," said Mulan, her normally sweet face dark with fury. He drew a knife on her, but she grabbed his weapon hand and twisted his wrist, using her right hand to thrust a finger into each eye. He yelped with pain, and Mulan, still breathing heavily, managed to knock him down. Pinned with his neck beneath her foot, he could only swear at her.

"Hey!" Mulan nudged him. "Less foul language, please." She grinned at her grandmother. "We are in the presence of a lady."

"Young people these days," muttered Grandma. The Emperor looked at her sympathetically.

Shang, however, was more interested in interrogating the Emperor's consul. "Were you in league with him? Did you want to make Mulan look guilty? If you even tried—"

"No such luck," sneered Chi Fu. "Did you honestly expect me to set fire to my beautiful hanging scrolls just for that girl?"

Shang immediately revisited his idea of kicking Chi Fu in the rear, but the Emperor, perceiving the captain's anger, held up his hand. "It's all right." He regarded the first servant impassively. "I believe I know what this is about."

The Emperor inspected the prone man closely. "No wonder you had to use a disguise," he chuckled. "It was lucky for you that my eyesight isn't what it used to be. Impressive fake beard, though...I imagine it's handy to take off when disguising yourself as a woman."

The servant glared at him.

"This man," explained the Emperor, "is Chu Wang. He is actually a noble, if you can believe it. While he was visiting me, Shan Yu attacked the palace. All of Chu Wang's possessions were stored in the room below the tower where the fireworks were lit. It made him bitter, and after listening to him ranting about Fa Mulan for days, I had him expelled from the palace. He must have seen you coming in dressed in armor, Mulan, and assumed that you had only to rearrange your hair to complete the ensemble. Funny, though. I thought he'd come back to take revenge on _me_."

"I'm easy an easy target for anger," said Mulan, not appearing too perturbed. "I stand out. Lucky that Grandma spotted him."

"Don't forget, I also made you wear the dress!" Grandma chimed in. "You had an alibi because of that."

"Mmm." Mulan examined the now rumpled fabric. "I guess it served its purpose."

"Eh, don't worry about it. It's just a dress."

Mulan looked surprised. Grandma nodded her head. "You really can fight well, child. I enjoyed watching you."

Mulan leaned over and gave her grandmother a one-armed hug. She couldn't move too far without inadvertently liberating the arsonist. Grandma didn't mind.

"I believe all is well, for the time being," announced the Emperor. Everyone faced him. "Still, I think we can use some time to recover. The formal dinner is cancelled...let us make it a formal breakfast, instead, and extend the invitation to all of Mulan's family. You," he motioned to the second manservant, "will see to Li Shang, and make sure he gets a cold compress on the eye that Chi Fu hit. You," he pointed to Mulan's maid, "will tend to your mistress's neck. Chi Fu, you are always aware of China's rules...see that you recover any damaged property from Chu Wang. And you," he indicated the defeated arsonist, "will clean every room in the palace, after which Mulan's grandmother will inspect your work. If she says you haven't done your job well, you will do it again."

Grandma's face creased into a mischievous smile. "Your Majesty is truly a superb ruler."

* * *

Epilogue to follow. 


	3. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's _Mulan _or its characters, plotlines, etc.

Thank you for all of the reviews! I really appreciate feedback. This is the final segment; sorry that it's short, but it's what I felt was the best version. Enjoy!

* * *

**Epilogue**

Ka-Boom!

Mulan let out a whoop of delight as the violet firework burst. Several white ones followed it, sparkling like stardust before finally fading. These fireworks gave way to scattered blue and green spirals. It was breathtaking...not quite as dramatic as the last time she'd witnessed fireworks here, but wonderful, nonetheless.

Mulan blinked away the afterimage of the next explosion. For a moment, she thought she caught a glimpse of a strangely-garbed young man and woman, snuggling on the rooftop next to a Persian rug. _How weird_, Mulan thought. _Maybe the bursts of light are affecting my vision._

"Which ones do you like best?" asked Shang's voice from behind her.

She hid a smile as he approached her. "I like the ones that have two colors, one inside the other. It's like an exotic bloom, don't you think?"

Shang grinned. "I suppose I'd never thought about it that way."

Teasingly, she said, "Of course, not as exotic as those dancing girls."

"Mulan!" he exclaimed. It was fun to see him turn dragon-red at her words. "I never...I thought you would know that I'd never..."

She threw back her head and laughed. "It's all right. Grandma told me about what you really meant. Of course, I'm not convinced that your 'yes' was followed by the thought, 'I would much rather gaze at you, my lovely blossom.' But then, I'm used to Grandma's selective memory."

Shang hesitated. "Did...did she tell you anything else that I said while she and I were talking?"

Mulan turned to face him. "No. Why?" When he refused to look at her, she stepped closer. "Shang. What did you say?"

Meeting her eye, Shang merely said, "It was a private matter between your grandmother and myself. I shouldn't discuss it without her permission."

"Hmm." Mulan narrowed her eyes at him. "I shall have to wheedle it out of her."

"Oh, no." Shang shook his head. "If she hasn't told you by now, I'm pretty sure that she won't. Which is a bit of relief, all things considered."

Mulan nodded, trying to conceal her disappointment.

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. "You'll know someday. I promise."

"You'd better tell. I don't want to string you up by your thumbs..." She paused, grinning. "But I _have _been known to set fire to certain chambers."

"You..." He tried to put her in a headlock, and she was just dodging him when there came a summons from the inner chamber.

"Captain Li, your presence is required."

Mulan beamed proudly. "Your promotion awaits. Good luck!"

Shang looked flustered. "I would gladly serve under you. Truthfully, you were the one who made me captain."

"And _you_ made me Fa Mulan, heroine of China."

Shang shook his head. "You found that strength within yourself."

"And you didn't?"

"Are we going to argue about this, now?" asked Shang good-naturedly.

"Nope." Ever so carefully, Mulan guided his stance until he had turned around. "Because if we do, you're going to be late."

Shang looked left and right, realizing that he had again about-faced without his knowledge. "It must run in the family," he said under his breath, but Mulan heard him. Aloud, he added, "You're right, I should go." His eyes glinted in her direction. "Though I would much rather gaze at you, my lovely blossom."

He was gone by the time she had realized the implication of his words. Which was just as well, because after that, Mulan was rendered incapable of speech for quite some time.

* * *

"Well," cackled Grandma, who had eavesdropped on the conversation from behind the curtain, "at least_ someone_ has made Mulan hold her tongue. Too bad it took a conspiracy, a soon-to-be general, and a meddling grandmother to make it happen."

She watched as the Emperor presented Li Shang with his new rank and then waved him out. Not to her surprise, the Emperor came to stand beside her. He, of course, had known she was there the whole time.

"I rather like that she speaks her mind," remarked the Emperor. With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "Honesty speaks of a strong character."

"Oh, it's not her openness that bothers me," said Grandma. "It's the timing. You see, it's much better to let prospective husbands think that you're sweet and compliant _before _you marry, and then, _wham! _You can control their every movement before they find out they've been usurped as head of the family."

"A fine strategy," commented the Emperor soberly. His mustache twitched slightly. "It seems to have worked well in some families, at any rate. Still, I doubt the General will need much convincing. Though goodness knows, it was like pulling teeth to get him to go after her with that helmet. Poor boy...hasn't had much experience with romance, I'm afraid."

Grandma snorted. "Think Mulan's any better? You wouldn't believe how hard she insisted on wearing that blasted armor."

On and on they went, each trying to top the other with stories of the reluctant couple. The Emperor was surprisingly easy to talk to and showed a wonderfully wry sense of humor. Meanwhile, servants poured them tea and crowded the table with all sorts of delicacies.

"It's too bad we just have to leave them to it, in the end," sighed Grandma. "We've had more experience with life...we could help them avoid all of the nasty pitfalls."

"They'd avoid the adventure that way, also," said the Emperor. "I think both them would be bored by a sweet, bland relationship."

"Mmm." Grandma had to agree.

"Besides." He winked. "If they're too shy to declare their love, there's always a marriage by Imperial order."

The two shameless matchmakers grinned from ear to ear.

_What a terrific man_...a_nd kind of attractive, too,_ thought Grandma, as she toasted the New Year with her tea.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
